Fashion
by thelittleactor
Summary: As part of a fashion workshop, Kurt's designs are hitting the catwalk. But how will Blaine react when he sees Kurt on the runway?


_**Based on the Klaine relationship/verse seen in **_**Seven**_**. Prompt provided by the lovely Lauren (hogwartswillalwaysbethere on tumblr). Prompt: **_apodyopsis, the act of mentally undressing someone.

Kurt just _had _to invite me along to this fashion show of his. Because he was just so fucking _talented _that he was accepted into this fashion workshop - culminating in a runway show - where models would display Kurt's designs. Geez.

I'm not the typical gay guy. I like football, and video games. I don't mind fashion, and yeah, maybe I do flip through _Vogue _every now and then. But it's not something I dream about every day. I don't care what clothes I wear, as long as I don't wear brown and black together (because Kurt said he'd punish me if he _ever _saw me in that combination).

How did I end up sitting on the sidelines at a fashion runway show?

Ahh. Kurt.

That stupidly sexy boyfriend of mine used his seductiveness to his advantage, the bastard. Fluttering his eyelashes and distracting me with the way his fingertips would caress my cheeks... he used methods beyond those necessary to coerce me into attending.

But really, why wouldn't I go?

So there I was, sitting in a Kurt-pre-approved outfit, waiting for the other student's designs to be modelled by the various stringbean, twig-looking blondes so I could finally see the extraordinary talent of my extremely beautiful boyfriend.

The many, frighteningly tiny girls hobbled by in their stilettos sporting many different, outrageous designs – one even included a real water sprinkler in the hoop skirt – before I heard one familiar name being introduced:

"...Ladies and Gentlemen, from Lima, Ohio, Kurt Hummel!"

I immediately stood, banging my hands together so hard I thought the force would surely cause one of them to break. Upon seeing the first of Kurt's models strut onto the runway, I sat on the edge of my seat, staring intently at his design. I was mesmerised by the detail and the quality of the fabrics and embellishments. Kurt really cared about fashion, and I knew he had a flair for design. But this was insane.

The first model stumbled in her stilettos, drawing my attention to them. They were ridiculously high, but stunning. It was strange how, for someone who wasn't really that interested in fashion to begin with, I was really engaged in the show.

After a little pose and some more strutting, the first model walked off the runway and in its place, a male model appeared wearing – oh _shit._

The sandy-haired, blue-eyed model was walking down the runway in skin-tight black jeans, a plain black V-neck shirt and a blazer, which looked remarkably like the Dalton one, except it was a deep purple with bright orange piping, and the crest on the pocket had gone from a D to a KB.

_KB? _I wondered. _What's KB?_

I kept thinking about it while taking in the details of the design – the rhinestone buttons on the blazer, the bright silver lining, the barely noticeable embroidered pattern down the side of the skin-tight jeans. _KB... Kurt and... Kurt something... what starts with a B?... shit. No way... could it be... Kurt & __**Blaine?**_

At that moment, after the final flourish/pose, the male model exited the runway only to have Kurt replace him. Kurt. Kurt was modelling his own damn design and _fuck, _I couldn't believe he was actually doing that to me.

The skin-tight jeans on the previous model were NOTHING compared to the ones Kurt was wearing. Kurt's were bright red – the same colour I'm sure my face was turning seeing _all _of Kurt like that. The denim fabric was clinging so much so that it was like a second layer of skin. His legs looked so _fucking amazing _that I was having trouble breathing. And when I let my eyes wander over the jeans, I found myself unconsciously staring directly at just how hot his ass looked in them. Looking up just a little, I saw that Kurt was simply wearing a black knitted V-neck cardigan, which he'd buttoned up completely. That was until he stopped at the very end of the runway – where I was sitting – and started unbuttoning his cardigan. Each button undone revealed the tight-fitting sleeveless shirt that had been screen printed with a constant stream of lyrics, all jumbled in a mess and revolving around each other. Again, the fabric clung to his skin and I could see the outline of his abs – abs I didn't even realise he'd had. Had he been working out?

The way his muscles would move through the material of the clothes and the way he looked so fucking flawless and so incredibly seductive hindered my ability to breathe even further. I was staring at Kurt, I knew. But now it was as if time was passing in slow motion – seeing Kurt unbutton his cardigan like that, staring me down as if he was about to ravish me, turned me on in ways I'd never have imagined. I found myself undressing him in my head: first, he'd unbuttoned the cardigan, allowing it to simply slide down his arms until the sleeves reached his fingertips before throwing it at me in the audience. Next, his hands would graze his chest as he moved them to the hem of the shirt and pulled it off in a quick, flawless motion, leaving his stunning, white skin glistening at me under the spotlight and his abs staring at me, perfectly sculpted and perfectly shaped... _Oh, what I wouldn't do to touch him right now,_ I thought as I imagined him undressing himself further, removing his belt and again, throwing it at me. He was staring me down, and I could feel the intense heat between us as he traced the outline of the button on his jeans before finally unbuttoning the jeans. His fingers then traced the tip of the zipper, playing with as Kurt's eyes bore into mine. I could hear him saying, "You want it, baby?" in the back of my mind, and so I nodded, because there he was, the hottest boyfriend in the world – fuck that, the planet – and he was undressing for me. For _me. _He was _mine._  
>Kurt slid the zipper down and began to slide his pants down when –<p>

"Blaine?" I heard a familiar voice coming from behind me, and I shook myself back into reality and turned to see that the show was over, and that my _amazing _boyfriend was smiling down at me.

"Kurt!" I stood up instantly, moving to wrap him up in a loving, supportive hug yet trying to hide my obvious arousal at the certain fantasies I'd just been having.

"Did you like it?" he asked me as we broke apart, though keeping our fingers linked together.

"I loved every part of it," I said, moving in close and keeping my eyes on his. "Your designs were fucking amazing, and I think I can safely say I have the most beautiful, most talented, best mother-fucking boyfriend in the world!"

"Blaine, you can ease up on the language!" Kurt said, slightly taken aback at my sudden use of curse words. He knew I'd only ever swear in... compromising... situations...

"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "I guess I just really, _really _loved your designs. Especially the design you wore. You were so hot up there, baby!"

Kurt looked at me knowingly, before scanning the room to see that everyone had practically deserted the room. He leaned in close, tightening his grip on my fingers and whispered in my ear, "You were totally guilty. I caught you."

"Caught me? Caught me what? I don't understand," I said, trying to bluff my way through this and hoping that, if the truth came out, I wouldn't seem like such a perv.

"Do you know what apodyopsis is?"

"No...?"

Kurt pressed kisses to the outline of my jaw, to my forehead and then to my lips.

"It's the act of mentally undressing someone," Kurt continued, his last whisper echoing in my ears as I felt myself tense up, not knowing what to think or say or how to feel.

"I... I don't... I..." I stammered hopelessly, not wanting to hurt Kurt's feelings by lying but not wanting to tell him everything in case he thought I had expectations. After everything Kurt had been through, I didn't want any of that.

"It's okay," Kurt said softly, kissing my lips with a slight amount of pressure before withdrawing and resting his forehead on mine, gazing into my eyes. "I was totally doing the same to you..."

I kissed Kurt as hard as I could in a public place without risking indecent exposure. "You were?"

"_Fuck yes,_" Kurt said breathily.

Kurt tightened his grip on my hands even more as he pulled me out of the venue, running at full speed. We reached his Navigator and leapt inside. Kurt had taken the drivers seat, and so he began to drive back to his place at full speed.

"Kurt, what are we doing? What about your designs?" I asked.

"I'll get them tomorrow. And I'm wearing one of them. And this is the design that I want you to rip off of me the minute we're alone, okay?"

_Fuck yes, _I thought. _Looks like mentally undressing someone can work to your advantage._

And it did. Because that night, everything I'd fantasised about _happened. _

I knew I'd be going to those fashion shows more often.


End file.
